


Soft spots

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting Belle to touch him willingly isn't nearly as impossible as Rumplestiltskin thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft spots

He isn't jealous.

He is a three hundred years old Dark One and isn't jealous of anyone or anything. Especially not of a filthy piglet with barely four legs… not even when it is being petted by his ridiculous but admittedly very lovely maid.

Indeed, Rumplestiltskin isn't envious at all with the stupid creature as it receives her caresses and reassuring words, its unwashed body in her lap and its undeserving snout presses against her belly.

Really, the sorcerer isn't jealous. Except... well, he _is_.

"Get that inferior thing out of my sight!" he barks to cover his weakness.

"But you said she can stay," Belle protests, all fierce indignation and flawless pale skin and impossibly beautiful eyes.

"I said _it_ can say if _it_ stays out of my sight. You don't want it to end up on your plate for dinner, do you?"

His maid shrugs – _shrugs! -_ in response to the threat.

"You can't convince me that you truly feel that we should have left her all alone with her dead mother," she replies, lovingly running her hands over the animal's back for good measure.

Rumplestiltskin huffs, not at all wondering what it might be like if she were to touch _him_ like that. He grasps the straw with much more force than necessary when he turns back to his spinning wheel, knowing only too well that Belle will never hold or caress him like that – or at all.

Or at least, she wouldn't do that when he looks the way he does, when he is the way he is. However, if he were to disguise himself as one of the unfortunate animals that his maid for some reason likes to bestow her affection on... It would be easy enough to turn himself into a scrawny dog or an injured cat for a few hours or so.

The sheer notion is absurd of course, but it's so very tempting regardless to imagine himself being held in her arms, being _cuddled_ by Belle.

When the piglet makes a sound of unmistakable delight, the sorcerer turns back around despite himself, unable to produce the sneer of disapproval he was aiming for when sees her playfully scratching the animal's side.

"You could just _ask_ , you know," she says, suddenly looking up to meet his gaze, as if she knew exactly that he looked back at her.

"Ask what?"

"Really, Rumplestiltskin, for someone who pretends to be so insightful and clever you can be awfully dense sometimes."

He scoffs, but he can't bring himself to act like he isn't curious... like he doesn't crave each and every scrap of company she is willing to give him.

"For someone who claims not to need human interaction you also spend a lot of time baiting for affection and attention."

"I do no such thing," he says, lacing his voice with all the disgust he can muster and pointedly looking away from her after all.

It goes against instincts Rumplestiltskin didn't know he still had, but he can't have her know of the power she yields over him, of the impact of her smiles and blushes.

The piglet chooses that particular moment to make a sound of delight he wasn't aware any animal could make. Clearly entirely under whatever mysterious witchcraft it is that Belle is wielding over him, the sorcerer looks back to her and her new pet once more.

He finds her lovely hands scratching the piglet's belly. He didn't know either that such animals let humans touch them like that, but this one obviously loves it. It immediately leaves the sorcerer wondering just how incredible it would be to feel her fingertips and gentle nails on his stomach and...

"Rumplestiltskin, come over here."

His treacherous body honors her request before his mind has given it permission, as if _she_ is the Dark One and he the help.

"Sit down with me," she says with that never ceasing kindness and patience of hers, patting on the place next to her on the couch. "Before you do something silly like changing yourself into a small, hurt animal to get yourself where you want to be."

By the time her words fully dawn on him, it's too late and he's already sitting down next to her like she asked. The sorcerer can't bring himself to truly care that he turns out to be yet more under her spell than he already thought now it seems that his impossible maid can actually read his mind.

"Lean towards me, you silly man," she whispers with something that couldn't possibly be affection when she smiles at him and carefully nudges the piglet off her lap.

Rumplestiltskin shudders when she embraces him from the side without warning, the soft curve of her breast pressing undeniably against his arm.

"That's not so difficult, is it?"

Before he can worry about the warmth and longing which rush through him in response to her embrace, feelings which might as well be of a magical nature, Belle moves her face to the crook of his neck and shoulder, her fingers finding their way to his hair.

He lets out a sigh he didn't know he had been holding when his maid matter-of-factly pulls him tighter against her. Hopeful beyond words, he lets her. She hums under her breath, as if she _likes_ sharing this strange, alarming moment with him.

When she also begins to caress his hair, there's no more denying that Belle for some reason appears to be enjoying this as much as he does himself. Still, it's probably for the best to mask the sounds threatening to spill from his lips when she cards her fingers through his tresses, because there's no way she won't be horrified if she were to find out the true extent of his affections for her.

He remains perfectly quiet while she pets his hair, hoping that his harsh breath won't betray him either. Still, there's no more keeping his voice down when she gently scratches the nape of his neck with her fingertips. Despite his considerable efforts, he ends up whimpering against her impossibly soft skin.

"That isn't so bad, is it?"

The words hardly register in his current state, especially not when she lets go of him without announcement. She raises an eyebrow in a way that implies that he's missing something very obvious, but he has no idea whatsoever what she might be referring to.

"Just _ask_ ," she says again, the fact that she returns her attention to the blasted piglet as if he isn't there at all only further adding to his confusion.

The Dark One doesn't know how to ask for affection, especially not from her, but he'll be damned – more so than he already is, at least – if she currently chooses to bestow her affection on the infernal creature rather than on him.

Grinding his teeth, Rumplestiltskin pointedly places his head on her thigh, looking up at her as threateningly as he possibly can from that position. She giggles, as if there is something _funny_ about any of this – about _him_.

"You are a strange man," she smiles, her smile not fading when it goes to his head.

When she unceremoniously starts to massage his scalp, he makes a sound that puts the bloody pig to shame.

"You're a strange woman," he bites out, the accusing tone of the words entirely gone when she reaches for his stomach.

To his absolute bewilderment, she begins to rub his belly through his shirt. Its material suddenly seems to be too thick and too thin at the same time, letting him feel too much and yet too little of her touch.

The worst part of it all is that he doesn't want her to ever stop, her touch wonderful in a way he couldn't have predicted. It's exciting without being terrifying, chaste without being motherly. All he can do is close his eyes happily and just lie there, basking in her attention for as long as she is willing to give it.

That's how one blissful minute after the other passes languidly, her caresses continuing even when he isn't capable of holding in his groans of appreciation any longer. But rather than stopping, the fairly innocent touches gradually turn into something else entirely.

As if it isn't astonishing enough yet that she's touching him in the first place, her hand slowly but surely goes lower and lower, towards a part of him that should be yet more alarming to her than to him.

After all, touching him like he is a... friend – or, indeed, a _pet_ – is one thing, but for her to find out that the beast lusts after her like the monster he is... She can never know what she does to him, if only for her own sake.

That's why Rumplestiltskin none too gently grasps her wrist when his innocent, oblivious maid moves her fingers in a direction where even his own thoughts can't go.

"You don't like me to?" she asks quietly, for an unexplainable reason sounding almost... disappointed that she won't touch him like he is... like he is her _lover_.

He stares at her with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart, her lower arm still in his hand. Now that he looks at her, really looks, he finds that there's hardly anything naive about her, but _certainly_ she wouldn't have meant to...

She'll never have anything like romance and the excitement and satisfaction of a lover now that she has given her life to him and his estate. Unless, _unless_... But despite his best efforts, there's no telling what she does and doesn't want.

"All you have to do is _ask,_ " she says again, almost as if she's entirely aware of what he wants, far beyond what he had in mind when he dealt for her - beyond what anyone, let alone one so beastly as him, should feel for their maid. Especially when said maid looks at him as lovingly as Belle currently does.

"Not today," he ends up blurting out, to his horror unconsciously bringing out quite the opposite of what he actually meant to say - what he _ought_ to say.

"Another day, then," she simply replies, all sunshine and something which can't possibly be hope.

Belle settles herself against him, sighing in baffling but unmistakable contentment when she casually places her hand on his knee.

Defeated, and happy for it, the Dark One rests his head on her shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed when her curls tickle his face and he breathes in her scent as discreetly as he can. He isn't even deterred when the damned piglet clambers onto his lap, pushing its snout insistently against his stomach.

Sitting with his maid like this, Rumplestiltskin finally realizes the prospect of truly letting her into his life in the possibly not so distant future is not nearly as terrifyingly impossible as mere moments ago.


End file.
